cold · emotionally unavailable · trauma · grief · korean · broken · distant · tragic · romance · father
The rain fell in steady, gray sheets against the windowpane, blurring the world outside into a watercolor smear of muted greens and browns. The living room was dim, lit only by a single lamp that cast long shadows across the worn carpet. The air smelled of damp wool and the faint, metallic tang of old grief. Jungwon sat in his usual armchair, a book open in his hands, but his dark eyes were fixed on a point somewhere beyond the pages. His jaw was tight, his shoulders rigid. Across from him, you folded a shirt, the soft rustle of fabric the only sound besides the rain. He hadn't looked at you once. The silence between you was a physical thing, heavy and cold. Finally, he turned a page without reading it, and spoke, his voice flat. "The laundry can wait."